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Jun. 3rd, 2012 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nottheotherguyIt had been two weeks since I woke up in space, and it should've surprised me how easy it was to settle in. But I'd gotten adaptable the past five years. It didn't take me long to settle in anywhere anymore; survival instinct, I guess. And it was nice to have people here I knew, people who were the closest things I had to friends. All we'd need was Thor and Tony and the whole gang would be here.
Still, no matter where I was or how comfortable I'd gotten there, I had to keep up my meditation. I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors if I lost control again-- plus, with Klaus threatening to grind my bones to make his bread, I had to prove I wasn't a danger to Caroline, or to anyone else here.
The problem was how to prove it, when I didn't even believe it.
It was Monday by the station's clock, in the middle of the morning. I headed over to one of the sparring rooms and settled in for my routine. I'd been asked about everything from yoga to a big bag of weed, and the truth was I'd tried them all. (Okay, not the bongo drums, but I'd known without trying that that was a stupid idea.) Meditation, yoga and those annoying breathing techniques had helped the most, though, so that was what I stuck to.
Here lies emotion, my teacher had told me, tapping his hand against his heart. Fear. No good. So here, control. He slapped his stomach. Then you control it, and it will not control you.
"Well, a guy can hope," I murmured, settling into the lotus position and letting my hands curl over my knees. I breathed, letting myself relax, focusing only on the sound of my heartbeat, the slow rise and fall of my chest. I was so absorbed I couldn't tell how long I'd been sitting there, and I barely even noticed someone was in the room with me until they spoke.
[find the big guy at any point during his routine.]
Still, no matter where I was or how comfortable I'd gotten there, I had to keep up my meditation. I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors if I lost control again-- plus, with Klaus threatening to grind my bones to make his bread, I had to prove I wasn't a danger to Caroline, or to anyone else here.
The problem was how to prove it, when I didn't even believe it.
It was Monday by the station's clock, in the middle of the morning. I headed over to one of the sparring rooms and settled in for my routine. I'd been asked about everything from yoga to a big bag of weed, and the truth was I'd tried them all. (Okay, not the bongo drums, but I'd known without trying that that was a stupid idea.) Meditation, yoga and those annoying breathing techniques had helped the most, though, so that was what I stuck to.
Here lies emotion, my teacher had told me, tapping his hand against his heart. Fear. No good. So here, control. He slapped his stomach. Then you control it, and it will not control you.
"Well, a guy can hope," I murmured, settling into the lotus position and letting my hands curl over my knees. I breathed, letting myself relax, focusing only on the sound of my heartbeat, the slow rise and fall of my chest. I was so absorbed I couldn't tell how long I'd been sitting there, and I barely even noticed someone was in the room with me until they spoke.
[find the big guy at any point during his routine.]